


The Invisible Boy

by Elizabeth_Firebreath



Series: Homecoming Series [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Child Abuse, Multi, Prequal to St. Mathew, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-02-09 23:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2002338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elizabeth_Firebreath/pseuds/Elizabeth_Firebreath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred had everything Matthew ever wanted. He was loved by his parents, praised and doted on, while they pretended Matthew didn’t exist.<br/>Literally<br/>Part 1 of Homecoming Series</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Light shined through as the door to the bedroom nudged open. Alfred rolled over and groaned.

  
"Five more minutes," he muttered into the hair of the sleeping figure next to him. His brother stirred, and violet eyes flitted open while blue ones stayed stubbornly closed.

  
"Alfred, darling," coaxed a gentle voice.

  
He heard his mother enter. Feeling her hand tangle into his hair, he buried his head in the sheets in protest.

  
"It’s time to get up. We have to get out before eight." She gently shook him.

  
Alfred didn't bat an eyelash at her words, not feeling very in the mood to be punctual.

  
"I made pancakes," she murmured in a sing-song voice, nudging his shoulder.

  
Alfred opened his eyes, meeting the excited gaze of his older brother.

 

* * *

 

The truth was Alfred didn't like pancakes all that much. He was more of a lunch person, preferring a huge hamburger or a bowl of fried chicken. Matthew was the pancake lover.

  
The sun had not yet risen, much to Alfred’s disgust. He felt there was an unwritten rule of the universe that made it illegal to wake before dawn. It was just wrong.

  
The table was set for three. Alfred's father was already sitting, silently sipping his coffee. He had poured a generous amount of syrup on his pile of pancakes. His mother sat down across from her husband. She daintily started cutting through a small stack in front of her. Usually, she never deviated from her strict diet, but on Sundays, she made an exception. She called it 'tricking her metabolism'.

Alfred eyed the huge stack on his own plate and sighed contently. The day obviously had not started yet--it couldn’t until the sun made it appearance. But he supposed the food was worth it, but only by the smallest margin.

  
The three started chatting; Alfred and his father cracking jokes at each other, while his mother giggled and tried to maintain some semblance of control. The three were a family.

  
Matthew approached quietly. There was a huge stack of leftover pancakes next to the stove. Whenever mother made dinner, there was always extra. When father did, he wasn’t always so lucky. He knew he couldn’t take them all, because Alfred always went for seconds. He looked over at his brother; he looked almost halfway finished. He also noticed the maple syrup was between his father and mother; out of reach.

  
Pancakes really weren't the same without maple syrup.

  
Alfred gulped down his milk at a blinding speed and shot up.

  
"Where are you going?" asked his mother.

  
"More milk," he managed to state through a mouthful of pancakes. He swiped up the maple syrup from the table. "And more pancakes," he added.

  
Swallowing, he jogged up and tripped, spilling the syrup all over the table and pancake stack.

  
"Aw, sorry!" Alfred exclaimed. "I’ll clean this up."

  
"Don’t worry about it, sweetie. I'm sure it'll get taken care of," his mother assured.

  
Matthew heard the command tinged in her words.

  
Alfred forked a few pancakes over, leaving five leftover, deliciously soaked in maple syrup. Matthew grinned, grabbing the plate and hurrying up to his room to enjoy his breakfast. He would have to be quick in order to finish and get down and clean up the mess before they left.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, not the nicest chapter, still on the short side, and mostly all angst. Next will be longer and probably more light hearted.

Matthew scrubbed quickly while glancing at the clock. 7:48. They were supposed to have left three minutes ago, but Alfred seemed to have misplaced his shoes again.

"Really, Alfred, it seems like you are constantly misplacing them." Complained his father.

"Sorry, Dad! Dunno where they could have gotten to! I checked everywhere!"

"Well obviously not everywhere," teased his mother.

Syrup wasn’t as fun to clean as it was to eat. The sticky goodness made it hard to scrub off of any surface, even tile and his arm was starting to hurt. Matthew glanced at the sneakers behind the couch, wondering whether his parents knew Alfred had hidden them the night before like he did almost evening.

Matthew was still worried. He wasn’t even dressed yet and the floor still wasn’t completely scrubbed, let alone mopped up. He wondered how long Alfred could keep up the act.

"Oh, here they are!" Matthew heard their mother exclaim. Apparently not very long. "Oh, what a silly place to put them." She stated." However did they get here?" Was that sarcasm he detected in her voice? Maybe they did know what was going on.

The floor was sufficiently soaped up. Matthew lurched toward the sink tearing off as many paper towels as he could grab. He threw them on the wet counter and scrubbed as fast as he could. In a matter of seconds, the moisture was wiped up and he tossed then into the trash can by the pantry.

Getting dressed was next on the list. Thank god he had the foresight to lay his clothes out. He scrambled into them in a rush, and took off down the stairs.

His parents were already in the car. Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Matthew hurried out the door.

If there had been a storm that night, Matthew would have known. Alfred hated thunder, and would have been in their parent’s bed when the morning came. Still, it must have been windy because the patio chair had been blown over into the walkway. So distracted Matthew had been that he didn’t even notice it until he had crashed into it.

He went sprawling on the ground. his arms shot out in front of him falling. There came a sharp pain where he was hit. He rolled over grimacing, and propped himself up on his right elbow, gingerly bringing his left arm to his face.

Blood, Matthew felt a bit woozy. He had never liked the sight of blood. He wouldn’t even watch the violent R rated horror movies with Alfred because the sight of violence would make him nauseous. Then again, Alfred didn’t really watch them either--just huddled with a pillow and pretended to his friends at school that he had seen it all the way through.

Matthew was having trouble focusing, mind going off on tangents. A large gash on the inside of his arm starting from the bottom of his palm and went up a few inches toward his elbow. It was far off to the right of the vein in his wrist. His mind barely registering what could have happened.

Get a grip, he tried to tell himself. Some part of his mind, still shaken from the fall, found the phrase amusing. He wasn’t going to be doing much with his left arm, let alone getting a grip of anything.

He heard a door shut behind him and a few scuttling footsteps. 

"Honey, what’s the matter?" Asked a female voice Matthew recognized as his mother's.

Matthew couldn’t help but marvel at how silly the question was, until he realized with a shock that his mother had spoken to him!

"N-nothing, I-I’m fine mom" said a voice behind him. The voice sort of sounded like his brother’s…

Alfred, of course she had been talking to Alfred. He must have just come out of the house. Honey? That was Alfred. That had always been Alfred. It had been stupid of Matthew to actually think that his mother had spoken to him.

He watched as Alfred stepped passed him. His brother stopped a few meters in front of him, fingering his bomber jacket the way he always did when he was upset.

"Honey?" Said the annoyed voice of their father. Annoyed at Alfred, there was a first. Alfred sprung into motion, walking toward the car again.

Matthew knew he had to get up. Pain or no pain. Blood or no blood. His parents would leave without him and there was no way he was staying home while his brother went to a theme park without him, even if he wasn’t as much of a coaster enthusiast.

Matthew hauled himself up and stumbled toward the car. If that car door shut, His parents would start the car and the three would speed away. Mathew would get there before the car door shut.

"Alfred, would you close the car door, hun?" 

"In a second," procrastinated Alfred.

No way, no way in hell was Matthew going to let his brother shut that door. No way.

"Here, I’ll do it," grumbled their father.

"No, its fine!" cried Alfred. "I’ll get it in a second!"

Mathew was almost there. His father reached back to grab the handle but in his awkward position, he was no match for his son’s determination. Mathew’s bad arm shot out when he saw what was happening and yanked the door handle out of his father’s hand.

A white hot jolt of pain shot up his arm and he collapsed into the car seat with a gasp. He quickly shut the door and strapped himself in. The twist of his hand shoving the buckle in made the boy whimper.

"What’s that annoying sound?" Muttered his mother.

Matthew shut up.


	3. Chapter 3

The cut wasn’t really bleeding anymore. It was long but shallow, and the pain was bearable as long as he didn’t make any sudden movements.

The four had been in the car for about fifteen minutes, and they still had two hours to go. Matthew and his family lived on the outskirts of D.C, making the drive to Hersey long, but not ridiculous.

Matthew stared at the laceration on his arm, stomach rolling. He knew he had to do something about it. The smeared blood was too obvious for him to just walk around the park like nothing had happened. But what could he do? He had not brought an extra change of clothes, and unlike his brother’s aviator jacket, he didn't have anything extra to take off. There weren’t any towels lying around, and unless Matthew wanted to wipe his arm on the back of the seat, there weren’t any options.

Alfred started complaining. "It’s kinda hot in here," exclaimed his brother.

"Do you want us to turn the air conditioning on?" his mother asked. She didn’t turn from the wheel.

"Nah." Alfred answered, shrugging off his jacket. Matthew was surprised; Alfred always wore his jacket. Even if it was a hundred degrees outside. If Alfred could’ve worn it in the shower, Matthew was sure he would.

He tossed his jacket to the side, and it landed in Matthew’s lap.

 _Am I a coat rack now?_ Matthew thought, then blinked in surprise. How could he be thinking such mean things? He was sure Alfred hadn’t meant it like that. Just being thoughtless like usual.

Alfred caught his eye. He kept moving them back and forth, back and forth, as if trying to emphasize something. Matthew was at a loss of what he meant. Alfred gave him an exasperated look. He glared down pointedly at the jacket then touched his forearm lightly.

Did he want him to use his bomber jacket, _his favorite jacket_ , to stop the bleeding? Matthew felt a sudden wave of guilt remembering what he had thought earlier.

Matthew took the jacket in his hand, then glanced at his brother looking for reassurance. He realized that he wasn’t going to receive any when he heard Alfred excitedly begin talking about the rides he wanted to go on to their parents. Matthew took a deep breath and used the inside of the jacket to blot at the blood. He hissed at the rough contact then paused, glancing up at his parents to see if they would react.

It wasn’t helping very much. Matthew hesitated for a moment then stretched out to grab a water bottle in the cup holder in front of them and poured a bit on the left sleeve.

He was dismayed at how much blood came off onto the jacket. The cut looked better, though he at least hoped no one would try to rush him off to the hospital while they were walking around the park.

Matthew sat in silence, staring out the window, bomber jacket still draped over his lap. His parents and brother chatted or listened to the radio, simply sitting companionably. Didn’t matter to Matthew, wasn’t like he was a part of it.

Wow, the pain really was making him bitter.

"Could we stop?" Alfred asked, “I need to go to the bathroom."

"Can you wait, son?” asked their father, “We only have forty five minutes till we get there."

"Not really," admitted his brother, squirming in his seat.

Now that he thought about it, Matthew kind of needed to use the restroom too. He had been in such a hurry to get out of the house, he had forgotten to empty his bladder.

"Alright, we'll pull off that the next exit," his mother said, switching to the left lane.

They drove off the highway and emerged on a small two lane road. Fast food restaurants and gas stations lined either side of the road for a few hundred meters, then nothing but grass and fields stretching on as far as the eye could see.

Matthew pressed his face to the window. Living on the outskirts of D.C, he didn’t get to see much untamed and undeveloped land. His brother might be too busy complaining at the lack of amenities. But Matthew was rather enjoying the simple rural beauty.

They pulled into a McDonald’s, and Alfred jumped out of the car. Matthew, careful of his injured arm, gingerly unhooked his seatbelt. His parents were already out of the car, he hadn’t noticed them leaving. Matthew reached for the door handle.

It was locked.

Fear rose in Matthew’s gut, he yanked at the door handle with his good hand.

The door didn’t budge.

His family was walking away. They disappeared into the store.

The car was utterly silent. The only thing to be heard was his own panicked breaths shattering the quiet. He could feel the interior of the car closing in on him. He wanted to bang on the windows, push on the door, or even scream at the top of his lungs. If he made enough noise, someone would come. Someone would notice him.

Right?

Maybe?

He felt tears streaming down his face. Shaking uncontrollably he tried to calm himself down by deep breaths.

In and out.

 And again in and out.

There had to be a way to unlock the car from the inside. He just had to find it and escape into the restaurant. There had to be people there, right? He didn’t need to talk to them, just sit in the corner unnoticed. Yes, this could work.

He crawled into the front seat and fumbled around for a button that would free him from this prison. Still trembling, he bit his lip nervously and unsuccessfully scanned the dashboard for a lock button.

He heard the distinct voice of his brother. He looked out the window and there was Alfred and his parents coming towards him.

He immediately relaxed. Settling back into his seat, he grabbed Alfred’s bomber jacket and wiped his eyes.

His family filed into the car. They pulled out of the parking lot and merged back onto the highway. All was back to the way it was.

Before, Matthew had been to be panicked to think clearly. Now that the car was full, he was able to regain his senses. And with that, came questions. He couldn't help but wonder why his parents had locked him in.

Accident? Matthew doubted it. It’s not that his parents actually forgot about Matthew, it was just that they chose not to recognize his existence.

That’s what he had to believe.

So, no, not an accident. They had locked him in on purpose, despite knowing Matthew could not handle being alone.

Why?

Matthew was never acknowledged by his parents, and he was expected not to seek their attention or in any way make his presence obvious. This meant he didn’t talk to his parents, he didn’t move or leave anything around the house unless specifically ordered to in indirect comments. In a nutshell, his existence could in no way infringe or affect his parents’ lives.

Failure to fade into nothing, resulted in punishment. Even without acknowledging him, there were a lot of things his parents could do to express their displeasure. Not leaving out food, leaving him places, throwing out his meager belongings. They could get very creative when they needed to.

One of their favorite punishments was to trap him places. Whether this was outside the house, in the bathroom, or the car, like they had today. They knew he couldn’t stand being alone, and exploited his weakness to teach him to behave. Locking him in the car was a common punishment.

That begged the question of what he done to deserve discipline.

He wracked his brain, breakfast had been fine. He ate the left over pancakes they had set out for him, and it didn’t break any of their rules for Alfred to spill syrup. Had he not cleaned the counter top to their satisfaction? No, he was sure he had done a good job on that.

Then there was the whole car fiasco.

He gasped quietly, realizing what he had done. When he had been getting into the car, his father had been closing the door, and Matthew had ripped it out of his hand.

Horror filled him.

That was much worse than when Matthew had screamed at his parents to talk to him when he was six. And then his parents had thrown out the stuffed polar bear he had slept with ever since Alfred rejected it at three weeks old. He had cried for weeks.

He had actually physically defied his father.

He would be punished severely for this; he had no doubt about that. Going to a theme park, there were so many possibilities. What if they finally decided Matthew wasn’t worth it? Abandoning him, and returning with his brother only. Finally having the little family they had always wanted.

And he would be all alone.

He felt sick, like he was going to throw up. He would have to be extra careful today.

The rest if the ride was tense, or maybe it was just Matthew. Alfred for one, did not seem affected. Matthew looked over and saw he was playing on their father’s phone. His brother must have asked for it sometime while he’d had been absorbed in his thoughts. His parents were chatting amiably, but Matthew knew that was hardly an indicator of their mood. When it came to himself, Mathew could never tell.

Suddenly, the car shifted to the right. He looked out the window, realizing they had arrived.

A man in an orange vest directed them toward a parking spot. They pulled into it, and Alfred jumped out excitedly, grabbing his jacket. Their mother, armed with 50 SPF sunscreen, sprayed the boy and his father before they rubbed it in, and Alfred slung off his jacket. Matthew, who was fairer and more easily burned than either his brother or father, had forgotten to put on sunscreen before they left. The early August sun would not be kind to him today, he realized, glancing up at the cloudless sky. Alfred had slung off his aviator jacket, and after a movements hesitation, Mathew grabbed it.

They passed the famous Chocolate World on their way to the ticket booth. Alfred practically begged their parents to let him buy something, and they agreed that just before they left the park, they would purchase a few bags of candy for him.

They hadn’t bought their tickets in advance, so the three of them filed into the line. Matthew let himself drift backward. He knew they wouldn’t be buying a ticket for himself, so he would need to find another way in.

He skirted the line that led into the park. He had two options; he could go through the regular way, and act as if nothing was wrong. If someone stopped him, which was more than likely, he could make something up. Usually it worked, but there was no guarantee. It really depended on who found him. Or, he could take a roundabout war somewhere through the woods or something, and sneak into the park. If he was caught, though, there wasn’t much he could say.

He saw a group of what looked like ten children, headed by one adult who didn’t seem very vigilant over her charges. A brown haired girl was yelling at an albino kid and his blond friend. A red headed boy was throwing what looked like small tomatoes from a lunch bag at another slightly older Spanish boy, with a smile too wide for his face. There were a few others beside. Two blond kids that looked like brother and sister, and two dark skinned boys who were talking among themselves. There were a few other kids toward the front that actually looked like they were doing what they were supposed to. Complete bedlam. With Matthews’s innate blandness and mediocrity, he should have no problem blending in with throng of children while sneaking through.

That was the plan, anyway.

Matthew quickly stepped in behind the kids, and no one seemed to notice him.

Well, no one but the white haired kid. As soon as he stepped up behind the blond girl. Burgundy eyes turned towards him. An almost nonexistent eyebrow rose, and an insolent smile materialized on his face. Matthew was sure at that moment that his plan had gone awry.

"Birdy!" He shouted racing toward him. Everyone turned in his direction.

But none of them actually looked at him. Even the blond girl right in front of him was standing on her tiptoes to see over his head.

"Where?" shouted an excited voice.

"Shut up, bastard." grumbled another.

"Awww, I want to see how cute it is," squealed the girl in front him.

"I wonder if we can sell it,” pondered the large blond boy.

"You are so immature!" shouted an angry female voice.

"Ohonhonhon, I wonder if we can use it to peep in girls in the locker room."

“And how the hell would that help you at all? The fucking bird would see, not you!” Matthew winced at the use of such strong language.

Despite the commotion, the albino seemed to be the only one who had spotted the mysterious bird. He hurried pasted Matthew and pranced around the nearby area like a mad person, chasing a bird only he could see. The other children quickly lost interest and went back to fighting among themselves.

Matthew watched the boy, who looked about his age, giggle in excitement and hop around.

Abruptly the boy looked up and met Matthews’s eyes.

The contact made him shiver.

He never been looked at by his parents, much less in the eye. Alfred usually gave him a millisecond glance, nothing more.

It was disconcerting.

The boy motioned for Matthew to come over, so he hesitantly approached.

He was only ten feet away to begin with, but Matthew took his time. About when he had crossed half the distance, the other boy seemed to grow impatient. Sighing dramatically, he took the final few steps and grabbed his arm.

"So, you want to sneak into the theme park, hmm? Well, let me assure you, you’re talking to the right Prussian."

Matthew glanced over in shock. Had he been that obvious? Then he paused, wondering what a Prussian was.

"I see by your confused face, that you are wondering how I figured out your master plan? Hm?" he seemed to be waiting for an answer.

"Uh, I was--um--" the boy looked expectantly at Matthew, and he swallowed. "Well, actually it was—uh—wondering, well--this may sound silly but--" The boy looked at an imaginary watch on his wrist, Matthew quickly swallowed and went on. "But I don’t really know what a Prussian is."

The boy slowly turned his gaze up from his imaginary watch, with a look of dismay on his face.

"What are they teaching in schools these days?" the boy shook his head in disgust. "That’s why I watch anime. Only place you learn anything." He emphasized it with a shake of his fist.

Matthew wanted to say something else, but he let it go. The guy seemed a little off. And besides, and he knew Matthew was trying to sneak in. Who knew what he would do with that information, if Matthew did not cooperate.

"Well, anyway, you’re kinda obvious." The albino continued, confirming Matthew’s suspicions. "Walking around all wide eyed and alone, just trying to slip behind us. What? Do you think you are invisible?" 

Mathew didn’t answer.

The boy regarded him for a moment, Matthew’s hopes of getting into the park were quickly dwindling. He resigned himself to stealing a few bags of candy, and spending the day sitting next to the car in the blazing hot sun.

"Well, out of the goodness of my heart, and because I am so amazing, I’ve decided to help you."

Matthew looked up in shock, the boy was grinning.

He seemed to be waiting for something again. Yet again, though, Matthew had no idea what to say. This was beginning to be a pattern.

“Now I understand,” he said, “You don’t seem to be very familiar with delicate social cues.” he said gently, before continuing on boastfully. “But this is the part where you started praising me.”

Matthew stared at him silently, blinking.

"Alright then.” He said patting him on the shoulder. His face then morphed into one of extreme malevolence. “Now that you are under the guidance of the awesome me, nothing can go wrong!" 

Matthew was really starting to worry.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mathew's adventures at the theme park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, what had it been. A half a year? Sorry guys. Hey at least this chapter literally doubles the amount of words in this story. You will be happy to know that I have already finished the first draft of the last chapter. Hopefully I will get it up in the next few weeks.

Gilbert glanced over his shoulder. The group of squabbling children was already receding into the park. The mother, laughing amiably, shoved a stack of tickets at the man in the booth. The albino grabbed Mathew’s hand and toed him toward the gaggle of kids. They easily slipped through, not getting a second glance in the confusion. The rest of the children were waiting on the other side.

"Gilbert who's this?" asked a blond kid waggling his eyebrows from a few feet away.

"Birdy,, Gilbert shouted hurrying toward the group, “and he's not for you." Mathew didn’t bother to correct Gilbert, he seemed set on the nickname.

"Aw that's no fair!" The blond boy sighed longingly.

"Alright everyone," Gilbert announced over the mournful lament, an arm over Mathew’s shoulder "this is Birdy! Everyone say hi Birdy."

A tanned skinned boy chirped "Hi Birdy." and a red haired kid elbowed him in the ribs. A blond haired girl waved enthusiastically, and another blond cocked his head and made an expression that Mathew was distinctly uncomfortable with.  The rest of the kids glanced over at Gilbert incredulously.

"So apparently Antonio and Emma are the only decent people here." Gilbert concluded. "Figures, Elizabeta wouldn't be one of them." He smiled mockingly over at a brown haired girl. The girl crossed her arms in annoyance and glared right back at the albino.

Gilbert turned to Mathew, "so the Spanish boy is Antonio." He pointed at the happy tanned skinned boy "and the Belgium girl is Emma," he pointed at the blonde haired girl who waved again, "their parents are friends. That," he motioned at the tall serious boy "is her brother Lars.” He paused making a face “Emma’s brother not Antonio’s,” He clarified. “Anyway, he grew up in the Netherlands, Lars not Antonio, with his aunt. They had to work a lot until their parents got a job over here, that's why they talk with weird accents."

Mathew tried to keep up with the rushed and confusing introductions.

"Can we go already potato bastard!" complained the red haired kid.

“Wait a second, would you!” cried an exasperated albino. Gilbert shook his head in disbelief "And that bundle of joy over there is Lovino. His brother got all the nice genes in the family. Just warning you, he's a tomato loving psychopath."

"Oh and the creepy one over there, I am sure you know who I am talking about." Mathew threw a sideways glance toward the blond boy who had spoken first. "That's Francis, and you probably don’t want to know why he’s looking at you like that. Trust me."

Mathew was having trouble remembering all of the names and explanations but Gilbert kept hurtling along. "That's Jose” he said pointing to one of the dark skinned boys, “he's Mexican, and Antonio's cousin. But that doesn't mean Antonio is Mexican because he is Spanish. Remember that! Trust me.” He said again “Making that mistake is one of the only things that can get Antonio mad, along with the meaningless slaughter of tomatoes and stalking Lovino, because that's his job." He paused for a moment as if realizing something “My friends are weird.” He nodded grimacing.

He shook it off "Oh and next to him that's Carlos, he really like ice cream and his dad owns, like, this really good ice cream shop in town you should try it sometime!" Matthew highly doubted he lived anywhere near Gilbert's town or Carlos’s dad’s ice cream shop, but he didn't say anything.

"And the crazy bitch is Elizabeta," Gilbert concluded, "got it?" Matthew nodded slowly when in truth he hadn’t ‘gotten’ half of what the other boy had said.

"We are leaving without you!" The brown haired girl, Elizabeta, called in annoyance.

"As if you could get rid of me that easily!" Gilbert snorted at the receding group. He grabbed Matthews’s bad arm and the quiet boy let of a yelp. The cut had scabbed over, but Mathew was afraid with rough treatment the wound would reopen. Gilbert started making weird noises that might have been laughter as he continued tugging Mathew along toward the children. They had congregated in front of what looked like a ride entrance.

"This one" Antonio pointed up at a menacing looking rollercoaster above with yellow tracks. Matthew held in a gasp. The thing looked like probable death. The drop was near vertical and he was sure that part of it flipped upside down, Mathew’s stomach started imitating the ride to come. Up, down, and around, in an overall uncomfortable experience.

"Skyrush?" Jose read from the map.

"It's a five." muttered Emma, worriedly looking over the other boy’s shoulder.

"Yeah, that means it's decent!" Gilbert dismissed. "Come on!" he urged. Mathew swallowed thickly.

"Looks like fun I’m sure,” The creepy blond boy looked up at the ride doubtfully” But I think I’ll be siting this one out."

"I’m with Francis.” The happy blonde girl, who didn’t look particularly happy at that moment, agreed.

"They’re dating" Gilbert whisper-explained in Mathew’s ear.

"Yeah," one of the dark skinned boys shrugged "I thought I saw some cotton candy a little farther down the way, want to get some Emma?"

"And Jose is in love with Emma." Gilbert snickered. "Everyone's in love  with Emma. Except Antonio, but he’s weird." Emma and Jose walked off in the direction of the cotton candy. The blond boy was busy teasing the red head and hadn’t seemed to have noticed that his girlfriend had left with another guy.

Gilbert cleared his throat, addressing the rest of the kids. "Alright,” he clapped his hands together and looked at the remaining group expectantly “So me and Birdy-"

"First of all, it’s Birdy and I.” Elizabeta drawled. “Second of all, I highly doubt that Birdy is his actually name, so you’re an idiot.” she continued. “Third it’s a three person ride. So you have succeeded in being wrong in every single way. That deserves a reward.” She finished smiling sarcastically at the albino.

Gilbert took a minute to just stare at the clouds ahead before purposely continuing without acknowledging the girl. “Me,” he stressed “Birdy,” he stressed again “and Lars,” he turned to the brown haired girl and matched her sarcastic smile before turning back to the group. “Will go together because we don’t want Lars accidentally unhooking Antonio’s seat belt during the ride” Antonio gasped and Lars offered a sarcastic thank you, which Gilbert gracefully accepted. Off to the side he said to Mathew “Lars hates Antonio”.

He returned to the group. “And then Antonio, Lovino, and Carlos.”

He paused for a moment before nodding “Yeah, I think we’re good.” He turned away.

“Uh-“Antonio lifted a figure in confusion.

“Oh that’s right!” Gilbert mock gasped, “Elizabeta, almost forgot about you!”

“Keep talking, see where it gets you.” Elizabeta threatened.

 “Yeah, you can just go with random people because Roderich is a girly-man-boy who is too much of a pussy to come out here. And besides that, you don’t have any friends.” Gilbert pouted at her.

"Roderich had a piano recital smartass." Elizabeta retorted.

Gilbert glanced over at Mathew showing his disgust, "Such an aristocrat!" he complained.

“Put the measuring sticks away.” Francis patted the albino on the back

“Ha-ha, don’t need one, everyone knows about my five meters.” Mathew stared in horror, appalled at where this conversation was headed.

“You forget!” Elizabeta grinned triumphantly “I’ve seen you naked! Nowhere close!”

“Ohonhonhonhon, details?” Francis slid up to Elizabeta, who pushed him away in disgust.

“Alright, this conversation has ended.” interrupted the dark skinned boy “Can we get on the ride now?”

"I-I don't think I'm tall enough" said the red haired boy, Lovino, who was admittedly was the shortest in the group.

"Wait weren’t you a Hershey’s?" asked the tanned skinned boy, Antonio, confused. Lovino elbowed him the ribs.

"Stand in front of that" Elizabeta gesturing to the  measuring stick that stood in front of the ride.

Lovino slinked over to the pole, and with hunched shoulders, stood next to it. Sure enough, he was just below the Hershey’s marker.

"Sorry Lovino”, Elizabeta sighed, “looks like you _are_ too short." The red haired boy seemed slightly relieved at this remark.

"Stop, no”, Gilbert commanded looking slightly confused, "that can't be right, I have taken Feliciano on this ride tons of times, and you guys are twins. So-"

"You've done what to my fratello you potato eating bastard!" Lovino shrieked straightening up to his full height, glaring at the other boy. While this full height wasn't altogether too impressive, it was just above the Hershey’s measure on the pole.

"Oh look Lovi! You grew!" squealed Antonio.

The Prussian glanced over at Mathew. "See, he was slouching" Gilbert declared triumphantly motioning in the general direction of Lovino and the pole. Lovino, who now realized his folly, was panicking trying to stay out of the Spaniard’s grip.

"Alright enough!" Elizabeta shouted "if Lovino doesn't want to go on he doesn't have to!"

"Coward!" trumpeted Gilbert.

"Shut up potato fucker!" shrieked Lovino.

"Language!" admonished Antonio happily.

"I can call whoever, I want whatever I want!" Lovino shot back. “Especially if it’s true!”

“True?” Antonio’s face went a shade whiter, probably trying to imagine the other boy doing what Lovino suggested.

"Come on guys!" Gilbert wined.

"I know it's hard for you," Elizabeta muttered, "but try not to act like you’re five." but the word didn't contain much of her earlier malice. They almost sounded rehearsed, like an actor who was really bored with her lines.

Mathew however didn’t pick up on that. Usually, unlike his brother, Mathew was good at figure out what people meant behind their words. At the moment, though, he wasn’t paying too much attention, too busy stating up in terror at the monstrosity above him.

People filled most of the allotted waiting area so the kids didn't have far to walk through before they got to the start of the line. Despite that, the wait time was short. But for Mathew, it seemed like forever.

The boy had been to amusement parks before, sure, but only one as big as this. The fair was an annual visit, but unless you had tickets you weren't getting on any rides. Mathew never had tickets. The only other big theme park he'd been to was Bush Gardens. Back then, he'd been a short seven year old as opposed to his tall twelve years making this his first real roller coaster.

He was a little more than a little nervous.

Gilbert was a welcome distraction. Mathew’s struggle to keep up with his constant chatter kept the quiet boy from dwelling on the ride he was waiting in line for. Gilbert was the type who could talk for hours with little encouragement.

 Mathew’s fear, however, of the coaster started to yield to discomfort at the amount of attention he was receiving. Soon he started to almost wish the other boy would leave him alone with his thoughts.

Half way through the line, Mathew's body let him know that he had forgotten something. In all the commotion following the incident in the car his urge to relieve himself had slipped his mind. Now it had become uncomfortable and hard to ignore. Mathew reflected having to pee and going on a rolling coaster he was terrified of probably wasn't the best combination.

Gilbert’s voice cutting off, replaced with laughter, signaled that they had entered onto the platform. The line separated into about a dozen or so different segments that each lead to one of the fifteen or so rows of seats waiting for the ride.

Gilbert grabbed Mathew’s hand "We have to get the front!" He exclaimed. "The ride’s fastest there! Plus we'll have the best view."

"That's not even right!" said a female voice behind them. "Everyone knows the back seat is the fastest!" Elizabeta turned up her nose and brushed passed them, walking to the last line on the platform.

Now, seeing the steel track, observing people all pressed up against each other in order to save their places in line brought Mathew back to reality. He started to hyperventilate as the red head, Lovino, and his Spanish friend pushed passed him. Lovino looked as terrified as Mathew felt. The tall blond haired boy brushed forward and filled into the shortest line, apparently expecting the two behind him to follow. The line he’d gotten into, however, wasn’t the front like Gilbert wanted.

"Come on Birdy!" Gilbert urged pulling at his arm.

"I-I-I”, Mathew stumbled, "bathroom!" He choked out.

"Huh?" Gilbert asked confused.

"He needs to go to the bathroom." supplied someone behind them.

"He can talk for himself!" Gilbert said angrily. Then he turned to Mathew "if you just realized that, it can wait right?"

Mathew's voice was stuck in his throat he tried to choke out something. He didn’t like the expectant expression on Gilbert’s face. It made him uncomfortable.

"He doesn't seem like the type to mention something if it wasn't important.” The boy sighed exasperatedly.

"Are you deaf?" Gilbert snapped.

"Are you blind?" the boy shot back. Mathew jerked his head back and recognized the other boy as Carlos. "He’s scared shitless!" Carlos grabbed Mathew’s arm "I'll show you to the restroom." He said, not unkindly. The glare he leveled back at Gilbert, however, could be described as unkind.

Gilbert was fuming "Come on Birdy!" Gilbert whined, pulling at his other arm, his bad arm. "Don’t you want to go on the awesome ride with me?" He pleaded.

Mathew looked at the other boy, then over at the ride pulling into the platform. He shook his head in fear.

A look of hurt flashed on the other boys face, but the relief that washed over Mathew trumped any guilt he might have felt.

Carlos sighed and motioned with his head toward the exit. He started walking and with one last glance at Gilbert, Mathew followed him.

Mathew started breathing easier as he put distance between himself and the platform. He set his eyes on the boy in front of him. He was heavier set, but not grotesquely so. Dreadlocks that hung to his neck were pulled back in a head band. He wore a green jacket and khaki pants.

Mathew took a deep breath as they emerged out of the waiting area. Carlos gestured to the left. "This way" he said. Mathew followed.

They had only walked a few steps when the other boy turned, a confused look on his face.

"I swear I know you from somewhere." Carlos said, crossing his arms, puzzled.

Mathew knew what was coming. It was the same story every time. "Who?" they would ask, "Mathew" he would reply, but they never listened. Either they’d forget his name, or worse call him by his brother’s. Alfred had always been the more memorable one.

Realization dawned on the other boy and his expression turned hard. Mathew was taken aback. This wasn't usually the reaction he usually got when he was mistaken for his brother.

"Alfred Jones" Carlos's voice had turned cold, his eyes steely. He laughed mirthless "I doubt you remember me, but I know you" he accused.

Mathew bit down hard on his lip, avoiding Carlos's gaze. “I’m not Alfred” he wanted to say, but he couldn’t. His words had never matter before, why should they start now. Doesn’t matter that Carlos had seen that he was upset, or that he stood up to someone to when Mathew couldn’t for himself. For all he knew, it was just a plot to get Mathew alone so he could chew him out for being Alfred.

"Alfred, number 50, star running back on George Washington youth football team." he recited on mock reverence.

"No" Mathew found himself whispering.

If Carlos heard Mathew’s protest, he gave no sign. "Remember last year,” he continued “when I tackled you before the winning touchdown. How you got up and fucking attacked me?"

"No."

"Broke my fucking collarbone! I was in the hospital for weeks. How old were you? Eleven twelve? A sixth grader? Seriously? And you got up messed up my face real good, bruised some of my ribs-"

"SHUT UP!" Mathew screamed. Suddenly, as if a dam had cracked, words came flooding out. "I am NOT Alfred okay! I have never been and I never will be! And blaming me for things he did isn't goanna change anything! I don't know what Alfred did to you! Or why! But, like, I am not him so  it's pointless to blame me for something he did! It’s like-not-" he choked out. His face was wet from tears "fair!!" he spat out.

Carlos took a step back, confusion flitting on his face. "But-" he was unwilling to apologize just yet, unsure how he could have made mistake. "Your jacket." His voice gained strength "that is Alfred F Jones’s jacket. And you look just like him!"

"My hair is lighter and slightly curly." Mathew corrected voice shaking. "I'm taller and thinner. My eyes have a slightly purplish tinge, and I am whiter than him. My glasses are oval and his are square" technically Mathew’s glasses were Alfred's old ones, but that wasn’t the point. "I might look like him!" Mathew shot out "but I am Mathew! Mathew," suddenly the bad mouthed kid, Lovino, gave him inspiration "asshole" he finished.

Matthew froze. What on earth had he just said? For the life of him he couldn’t remember. He was pretty sure he had just told the other boy off but the particulars were fuzzy. Everything had just come rushing out so fast.

Carlos stood blinking, clearly not expecting Mathew’s outburst. He opened his mouth and closed it again, trying to recover.

Mathew remembered the last part clearly. had he really called the guy an asshole? "Uh, the, um," he paused "language, I guess, wasn't exactly, uh, fair of me." He admitted, face flushing "I suppose" he added quickly.

That seemed to snap the other boy back into reality. "So," he said in the way you did when you were awkwardly trying to recover a conversation. the silence had become so heavy it was suffocating. Carlos laughed awkwardly and flashed a self-depreciating smile "You’re not Alfred." He concluded.

Mathew didn't even bother to respond.

"So," he said in the same way as before, he laughed again "Yeah, Mathew was it?"

He nodded shortly.

Carlos scratched his head. The weight of the quiet still had a noticeable pressure.

 "Well”, he nodded grimacing, “I feel like a douche bag"

They were quiet again for a moment as they regarded each other. Somehow the silence had gotten even more awkward

Carlos sighed again "Look man,” He might have been about to make the first decent attempt at an apology in the exchange so far. “I'm sorry. I've got a grudge for your brother. I didn't mean to call you out like that." He cut off again. "Look is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

Mathew was a little bit surprised. He kind of expected the guy to start running at the second ‘So’.

 "I-I-i suppose" Mathew stuttered, unsure of what he was agreeing to.

Carlos grinned big "Alright that's good!" He motioned forward "Come on, ice cream makes everything better and I think I saw some Dippin’ Dots father up the way."

Going from one of the most awkward conversations in Mathew’s life, he didn’t expect to feel almost comfortable walking with the other boy. But now that the boy was hastily trying to pick up the pieces, Mathew could relax.

"So Alfred's brother?" Carlos began, trying to start up a conversation.

"Mathew" he corrected him.

"Mathew" Carlos corrected himself "Mathew,” using the name like it was a novelty. “So Mathew, why does Gilbert call you Birdy?"

Mathew shrugged and Carlos waved his hand. "Never mind, but that's Alfred's jacket right?" The conversation was strained, but not altogether unpleasant.

The two had come to the Dippin’ Dots stand. Mathew realized he didn't have any money, but Carlos pulled out a wad of bills.

"Don't worry, my treat." Carlos grinned. Mathew saw a flash of guilt behind the boy’s smile.

"So why are you wearing it?" Carlos asked.

"What?" asked Mathew confused.

"The jacket, Alfred's jacket."

"Oh" Mathew pulled the jacket around himself tighter more aware of the gash in his arm "I sun burn easily." Carlos laughed at that. Stringing sentences together for Carlos wasn't hard anymore after blowing up at him.

They sat on a bench and spooned Dippin’ Dots into their mouths. Mathew had picked vanilla, and Carlos rainbow.

The two boys talked. Mathew was surprised how much the other boy was able to coax out of him. It was pleasant, and he felt the urge to entertain Carlos, something he had never experienced before. He wanted to seem interesting though he suspected that neither of them were terribly clever.

Minutes passed and soon their bowls were empty. After they had thrown them away and finally taken a trip to the bathroom they returned to the bench and talked. From leaving the line to that moment couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes, but it felt like much longer.

"Birdy!" An unmistakable voice shouted.

Mathew cut off in the middle of a sentence and glanced off to the side. Gilbert was waving vigorously from a distance, joined by the rest of the kids, even the ones who had skipped the ride.

Mathew realized for the first time that the woman who had brought the group of children into the theme park were nowhere to be seen. In fact, he hadn’t seen her since they had entered the park. Maybe she'd taken off to another part or maybe she never came in at all. While, yes, Mathew’s own parents didn’t exactly look after him, he had never considered abandoning children in an amusement park as normal, especially if some weren't even your kids.

Carlos sighed loudly and the two got up to join the group.

"It actually pretty good you guys, you kind of missed out." Elizabeta lamented. Carlos shrugged, not seeming to care either way.

Gilbert shook his head giving Matthew a conspiratorial look "It actually was kind of boring. Nothing you haven't seen before I'm sure, not missing much at all."

Mathew nodded and smiled slightly. He surveyed the group. The weird blond guy and the other blonde girl were standing really close together, whispering and laughing. If Gilbert hadn't already told him that they were dating, he probably would have been able to guess from the exchange. The other dark skinned boy looked annoyed. The happy one was flitting nervously around Lovino, who looked as if he was about to throw up. The tall blond guy was standing off to the side counting a few dollar bills looking over at the Dippin’ Dots stand, maybe trying to decide if he wanted a cup.

Gilbert grinned big at Mathew, and for some reason Mathew didn't feel uncomfortable as he had before. The attention felt nice.

"What's next, Antonio?" Elizabeta asked, turning to the happy boy. Antonio wasn't listening. He was too busy apologizing to Lovino who still looked a little green. Elizabeta rolled her eyes.

"Since you didn't go on the last ride you should chose the next one!" Gilbert exclaimed to Mathew.

"By that logic Francis could pick, or Emma, or Carlos, or Jose." Elizabeta said dryly. "Like someone who is actually a part of the group."

Mathew shrank back, blushing, but before he was able to read anything into the statement, Gilbert turned to the girl and snapped. "As if you’re here because Antonio actually likes you! Lovino and I suggested it. Now I am saying Birdy will pick the next ride so shut up and deal with it."

The blond boy whistled and his girlfriend giggled. Apparently everyone had been listening to the exchange with the exception of Lovino and Antonio.

"Alright, whatever." Elizabeta threw up her hands angrily. "'Birdy.'" she stressed sarcastically glaring at Mathew.

"Mathew." Carlos corrected.

"Thank god, someone bothered to learn the boy’s name! It’s a miracle!" Elizabeta laughed, but it sounded extraordinarily forced.

"Well maybe you should have asked." Mathew said pointedly.

There was an audible pause from Gilbert and Elizabeta who turned slightly toward him. Clearly they had not expected him to speak. Mathew was surprised at himself. But when Gilbert grinned, holding up a hand to high five, which Mathew hesitantly did, and Elizabeta conceded with a grudging "yeah well," Mathew felt extremely powerful. His words did mean something!

"So what do you want to do?" Gilbert asked him.

Mathew felt himself grinning wildly like he imagined his brother had when his parents had asked where he wanted for his birthday.

Mathew surveyed the area, wanting to make the best choice possible. Something caught his eye. He'd seen it before at the fair every year and he had always wanted go on but he'd never had the tickets required to go on the ride.

He pointed to the ride entrance in front of them. "The swings" he said excitedly.

Gilbert laughed. "Birdy wants to fly!" He chanted. "Birdy’s gonna fly."

 

* * *

 

 

They'd probably went on the swings twelve times.

After the first time Antonio decided he loved the ride and Lovino said he didn't hate it. They jumped off and got immediately back in line until Lovino insisted that he would jump off while it was still in the air if they went on it again. That caused Antonio to almost start crying and abandon the ride.

After that, Gilbert and Elizabeta meticulously planned how to hit every thrill ride, with tons of disagreement on how exactly to go about it. Mathew even got on a few of the bigger ones. While he wasn't brave enough to jump in the front with Gilbert, he and Carlos would sit in the middle. The first time, Mathew had death gripped the other boy’s arm all the way up the first ascent, but was laughing by the end.

"Okay! What is it, two hours till closing?" Gilbert asked.

Elizabeta pulled her iPhone out. "Yeah." She affirmed nodding curtly.

"Oh!" Francis cooed. "She's agreeing with you!" He waggled his eyebrows at Gilbert. Mathew was getting better at names. Francis was the boyfriend of Emma, He was also Gilbert and Antonio’s best friend. Apparently they formed something called the Bad Friends Trio. Francis loved to tease Gilbert and Elizabeta, along with Antonio and Lovino.

"Shut the hell up!" Elizabeta snapped at the blond boy. Neither Gilbert nor Elizabeta ever took the teasing well, but it was nothing compared to the rage Lovino would get into. Antonio on the other hand, would just smile.

"So what have we missed?" Gilbert asked pointedly ignoring his friend. Elizabeta also adopted the same strategy, returning to the map with a haughty expression, not deigning to acknowledge Francis's existence.

Mathew thought the two were pretty funny. Straight backs, noses turned up. They looked like a pair of aristocrats snubbing a lower noble they considered inferior. Though, considering the venom Gilbert used when he spoke the word aristocrat in reference to a boy called Roderich, Mathew doubted he’d appreciate his input.

Instead he turned to Carlos grinning, about to voice his thoughts. Mathew loved that Carlos would listen and smile when Mathew would blurt out random things, even if they were not particularly funny or relevant.

But Carlos appeared distracted. He was looking off somewhere. Mathew didn’t want to take him from whatever he was preoccupied with, but he was still curious. He glanced around his friend.

Suddenly he had a thought. Was it too soon to call Carlos a friend?

"I don't want to make the same mistake again," Carlos commented, "but isn't that-" he pointed. Mathew turned his head to get a good look.

"Yeah." Mathew answered quietly.

About thirty feet away, two parents and an energetic thirteen year old were sitting at a picnic table eating what looked like burgers.

Alfred and his parents.

"But if that’s your brother and your parents, I guess, why-" Carlos began.

"Don't." Mathew warned.

Carlos’s brow creased with a silent question, but backed off "Okay." he surrendered.

"Hey Birdy!" said a voice. Gilbert scampered up. "What you guys looking at?"

Mathew cringed as Gilbert caught sight of the rest of his family. "Hey-”, he trailed off, "that guy looks like you." Gilbert announced, but then paused. "Only, like less Birdy like." He nodded as if that made any sense.

Then he grinned. "Hi Birdy's parents!" He yelled, running up to the unsuspecting family. Mathew choked in fear, unsure of what to do. He wanted to grab Gilbert and drag him to the farthest corner of the park, but he wasn't sure how to do that without being seen by his family.

"Don't worry I'll handle him." Carlos assured Mathew and he ran to follow the albino.

Mathew was more than happy to let Carlos figure it out and he retreated behind the rest of the kids, trying to be invisible.

He peaked out and watched. There was too much background noise for Mathew to make out what any of them were saying but he could see just fine. Gilbert was grinning at his parents and waving exuberantly. His parents looked at him blankly, obviously not recognizing the name Birdy.

Carlos tried to intercede but the albino was not to be deterred. Any attempts to grab his arm or toe him away were for naught. Gilbert grew more and more frustrated as he tried to explain himself to the family. Finally giving up, Carlos shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Alfred was moving in his seat much the same way.

Only then did Mathew remember what Carlos had said. Alfred and Carlos had issues. And he'd just sent the one to confront the other. He felt a flash of guilt as he realized the position he'd put Carlos in.

Alfred froze up. He looked at Carlos straight in the face for the first time. Then he looked back toward the group and the two brothers eyes met for a moment. Alfred hastily looked away.

Mathew felt a chill pass down in spine. Anger massed in him. He remembered how Gilbert had made sure to ask Mathew’s opinion. How Carlos had stood up to Gilbert when the albino had been too oblivious to realize he was making Mathew do something he didn't want to. How the rest of the group had always acknowledge him. Alfred was supposed to be his brother. Yet he never did any of the things these strangers took for granted.

Alfred did what their parents wanted first and foremost.

Mathew decided in that moment that Alfred was not a good brother.

Mathew looked back at his friends. Carlos seemed utterly baffled but Gilbert's face had gone blank. Mathew found it unnerving. All day, Gilbert always wore some sort of over exuberant expression. His face didn't look right with no expression.

Gilbert backed away and started walking toward them. Carlos followed, giving Mathew’s parent’s one last puzzled look.

Elizabeta shifted as Gilbert rejoined the group. "What's the issue?" She crossed her arms looking at Gilbert, then at Mathew’s parents, then back. She sensed the tension as well as Mathew.

"Nothing." Gilbert replied stonily. Mathew glanced at Gilbert and moved toward Carlos.

"What did they say?" Mathew asked.

"That Alfred was their only child." Carlos explained. He turned to Mathew, shaking his head in bewilderment. "Mathew what's all this about?"

"Nothing." Mathew said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I knew the chapter was straying a little off topic when I added the dick jokes. Then again this really was a chapter about introducing an atmosphere completely different than what Matthew was used to in the purpose of catalyzing some events in the last chapter, No more spoilers but that. I feel like I at least succeeded in that. Hope you enjoyed it!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter  
> Wow, I know it hasn't been a long story but I started this like a half a year ago. I remember the day this idea popped into my head, and now it’s done.  
> Thank you, thank you, to all of you that have commented, left kudos, subscribed and all that jazz. You don’t have any idea how much motivation see those numbers and reading those comments were.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as it is humanly possible to enjoy this chapter.  
> 

"Hey look!" Gilbert motioned to the other kids. He pointed toward one of the many stands that lined the road of the park.

Mathew glanced over. He didn't see a roller coaster or a food stand or anything else he’d imagine Gilbert would be interested in. In fact, the only thing he could see were a spattering of relatively dull carnival games. One had little contraptions that shot water at a target. Another had small cup on a spinning platform full of little prizes. The one to the far right, which Gilbert seemed to have focused on, had hundreds of balloons lining the walls and stuffed animals, big and small, hanging around a scrawny old man. The man was offering darts to a middle aged couple. The women threw the first with the intention of trying to pop the balloons. She was successful but seemed disappointed. Something caught Mathew’s eye. A small stuffed animal, a white polar bear that reminded him of one he used to own as a child.

Gilbert followed his gaze. He grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets. His foraged around, stuffing them deeper. His forehead creased and he moved to check his back pockets.

"You out of money?" asked Elizabeta raising her eyebrows.

"Francis! Antonio!" Gilbert barked "You got any."

"Lovino used that last of my mine." shrugged Antonio.

"Well I don't have any," Francis said with a sigh and a glint in his eye "but I know Elizabeta does."

Gilbert ignored that remark and turned to Emma. “You?” he asked.

Francis and Emma exchanged glances. "Used it all." Emma offhandedly said.

Gilbert narrowed his eyes, smelling a rat. Lars wasn't the type to let him or his sister waste all their money. Mathew distinctly remembered seeing the tall blond boy figuring a sizable wad of cash just minutes before. Why would they lie?

"Didn’t bring any."

"Used it all."

"Like I am giving you any money jerk." Replied all the other kids.

One by one they all refused. With no other option, Gilbert reluctantly turned to Elizabeta.

“How about you?” he choked out, refusing to looking at her.

Elizabeta regarded him for a moment and sighed. "Yes Gilbert, you can waste my money on the stupid carnival game, but I get the prize."

"No way, Birdy does." Gilbert scoffed.

"Fine," Elizabeta snapped "but next time Ludwig bakes a cake, I get a piece."

"A piece?" Gilbert clarified.

"The biggest piece." Elizabeta pressed widening her grin.

"Oh come on you know Luddy’s too OCD to cut one piece bigger than any other!" Gilbert snorts.

"As if you’re any better!"

Gilbert ignored that "A piece." he repeats.

"Crap, Gilbert just agree!"

"I know but-"

"Gilbert"

"Fine! God damn it woman!"

Elizabeta smiled in triumph and slapped a five dollar bill in the boy’s hand "Pleasure doing business with you." she said sweetly.

"You’re insane." Gilbert muttered. Elizabeta just giggled.

The albino sighed, walking up to the carnival game. He waved the bill in the man’s face "How many games can I get with this." He shouted crossly

The older man didn't pay any attention to Gilbert's rudeness, he probably dealt with much worse on a daily basis. He took the bill and squinted at it "Two games." He told the boy.

"If you need any more money, you know my price." Elizabeta taunted.

"Your life will end." Gilbert threatened.

"Aren't they cute?" Francis cooed.

"So cute!" Emma echoed.

"Almost as cute as Lovi!”

Gilbert turned to his friends in cold fury "Do you guys really not have anything better to do than listening to other peoples conversations?!"

Francis gave Gilbert a patient look "You’re holding up the wheels of progress hon, what are we supposed to do?"

Gilbert stared his friend down menacingly "Your life will end too."

Francis just smiled and blew him a kiss.

Gilbert turned to the older man at the booth "Okay I'm ready.”

 

* * *

 

Gilbert ended up owing Elizabeta three slices of cake.

She was borderline euphoric, giggling uncontrollably. Gilbert, on the other hand, looked almost depressed. but as soon as he popped the balloon with the card label 'medium prize' he perked right back up again.

"Which one do you want?" Gilbert turned to Mathew, gesturing at the stuffed animals. Mathew pointed excitedly at the polar bear he had seen earlier. Gilbert indicated the prize to the employee and he unclipped it from the rack and handed it to Mathew.

Mathew smiled broadly at Gilbert, eyes sparkling, hugging the stuffed animal to his chest.

"Thank you" he whispered.

Gilbert blushed scratching his head "Oh, it's nothing don't worry." He laughed.

"Hey," Carlos nudged Mathew "It's late, not long till the park closes. You should probably get going." He smiled.

"We don't have to leave yet!" Gilbert whined.

"Mathew might." Carlos shrugged. He turned to him "Nice meeting you, Mathew." He held his hand out and the other boy took it. They shook.

"Oh, oh!" Gilbert exclaimed. "Elizabeta! Do you have paper?"

"That's gonna cost-"

"Give me the freaking paper!" Gilbert roared.

"Fine fine, geeze." Elizabeta rolled her eyes and fished through her purse eventually pulling out a crumpled receipt and a pen.

Gilbert snatched it out of Elizabeta's hand, glaring. Turning back to Mathew, he scribbled down a few numbers on the paper using his hand as a surface.

He thrust it at Mathew. "Here!” he said, “The top number is mine. If you can't reach me, the bottom one is Francis's. The three of us are best friends, Francis, Antonio, and I.”

Mathew folded the paper and slipped it carefully into his back pocket He looked up at Carlos curiously.

"I don't have a phone." Carlos shrugged.

Mathew nodded, not questioning. He didn’t have one either, but he could probably sneak Alfred's when he wanted to call his friends.

Mathew smiled at the assembled group. They all waved and called various good-byes. Mathew felt a surge of warmth in his chest, friends.

"Bye!" He called enthusiastically and waved back.

Mathew turned away and started walking toward the entrance of the park. He was surrounded by people, all moving the same way as him, but he was beginning to feel strangely alone. Before today, whenever he was in a crowd of people he had felt like a part of something. He’d always tapped into an overall sense of belonging. Now he could only feel the loss of his friends disappearing into the crowd behind him.

He pushed through the entrance and emerged on the road passing Chocolate World, still clutching the stuffed animal to his chest. Passing the candy empire, he retraced his steps to the car. It took a few minutes, but Mathew was able to find it without too much trouble.

He leaned against the door and blew a long breath out. He felt drained, tired from all the stimulation. Mathew reached from his arm, feeling an itch and, began to scratch.

He started.

Mathew pulled at his sleeve to reveal and arm with simply a shallow scratch. He stared at it in bewilderment. He was sure it had been serous hours before, he remembered the blood and the pain. Now it only itched a bit. He realized that he hadn’t thought about the cut in his whole time in the park, not once.

The excited chatter of his brother interrupted his thoughts. Mathew stiffened at the sound. He couldn’t help but compare his brother to his new friends. And when he did, he found Alfred coming up short.

The door unlocked and the family climbed in. Mathew pushed the polar bear into the car and used his good hand to shimmy into the seat. It was more awkward than he’d imagined because the step up was high. Before, he hadn’t even thought of his arm when he’d jumped into the car, now he was being extra ginger with the task. He reflected that, maybe now, it wasn’t necessary to be ginger at all. The thought unnerved him and he pushed it away.

Finally struggling into the seat, He closed the door. Mathew glanced to the side to grab the stuffed animal.

The polar bear had disappeared.

Mathew glanced around in panic. It hadn't fallen off the seat Alfred didn't look like he was sitting on it.

He saw his mother climbing out of the passenger side. He recognized the polar bear in her hand as she tossed it in the nearest trash can. He hadn’t even noticed her reaching back to grab it.

Mathew gasped in horror, freezing. He watched the stuffed animal disappear into the filthy bin. He turned to open the door, to yank at the handle and push it open. He was about to jump out when his father started the car.

And he realized that if he got out that car, his parents would leave without him.

And he would be alone.

Mathew didn’t reach for the handle. He didn’t yank the door open, he didn’t jump out. He did gingerly pull the seat belt out and buckle himself in.

Mathew slipped his hand into his back pocket and clutched at the receipt with Gilbert and Francis's phone numbers.

Mathew's eyes were on the trash can as the car pulled out of the lot. Tears spilled down his face as his breath hitched.

He turned to his brother in the seat beside him. Alfred was smiling down at the oversized Hershey’s tee shirt and stuffing his face with mini Kit-Kats. Mathew’s lips curled in disgust as he started to sob louder. Alfred looked up, mouth full of candy, and stared at his brother questioningly. The other boy took in Mathew’s distraught face and tears. He cocked his eyebrow in concern. He wouldn’t say anything to him, though, he never did. Mathew glanced away.

His father pulled out of the lot and drove down a few side roads before getting on the highway. Mathew stated out the window, crying in frustration. He didn't try to hold back the noises, but he didn't accentuate them with dramatic moans the way Alfred or the children at school would.

Apparently even without the added theatrics, it was still too loud.

"That annoying sound again, you should really get something done about that." His mother commented to his father.

"Shut up." Mathew hissed.

Dead silence, with the expectation of the sound of Alfred choking on his Kit-Kats.

“Alfred, are you alright?” came his father’s voice, betraying no emotion.

Mathew breathed in and out. What would his friends do? Carlos's lip would curl in disgust, the way he had reacted when he thought Mathew was Alfred. Gilbert would get angry. Full of white hot indigence and shooting out quick comments. Lovino would start swearing, and Elizabeta would cock her hip and snort, asserting her superiority.

Mathew curled his lip like Carlos, and snapped like Gilbert "I am really tired of your bullshit!" He said like Lovino. He crossed his arms, remembering when Carlos has accused him.

"You treat me like I am nothing,” he spat “like I am invisible, like I don't exist, and that's not true! I exist. I am right here, right now, talking to you! I am your son too!" He was shouting, crying. But for the first time in so long he felt a weight lift off him. He felt invincible. There was nothing his parents could say or do now, that could hurt him. He was free.

His mother slowly turned to him. Mathew was dumbfounded, staring open mouthed at his mother, actually turning to him acknowledging him.

Her face was clouded with rage, her eyes met Mathew’s and he felt the urge to crawl under the seat. Such was the hatred in her eyes.

"You are not our son." She hissed definitively.

"Mom!!" Alfred screamed.

 

* * *

 

  
Mathew didn't see it coming

Staring into his mother's eyes for the first time in his life, it didn't cross his mind that with all the attention on him, no one was watching the road.

Alfred however, saw the nineteen year old boy yelling into the phone. His girlfriend? Mother? Friend? It doesn't matter. The boy was angry and it came out in his driving. He was swerving violently from one lane into the next.

Alfred saw the car hurtling into the lane in front of them car and watched it slow down.

Their car, however, did not slow. The driver was too busy speaking words that would haunt Mathew for the rest of his life, no matter how long, or short, it might be.

Alfred was the only one watching when the Jones’s car plowed right into the back of the green Bentley, driving into off the road and into the median at 70 miles per hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a continuation of this story on Fanfiction.net called St Matthew. It good for like the first three chapters and then it sucks. You can go read it if you want to.


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